


Move Like You Stole It

by fudgioam



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A Bit of Snap Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Hijinks & Shenanigans, It's a love story, Kidnapping, New SHIELD (Marvel), Post-Endgame, Protective Bucky Barnes, SHIELD Needs A Better PR Plan, Unfunny People In Cars With Overpriced Coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fudgioam/pseuds/fudgioam
Summary: Vivian Garrity has her own problems. Why does she keep getting roped into Avengers missions by the Winter Soldier on top of everything? Vivian knows these liaisons are getting her into trouble -- and it’s not just with the newly reformed S.H.I.E.L.D. or their innumerable enemies. With every chance encounter, that annoyingly hot guy with a metal arm worms his way deeper into her heart. As if she didn’t have enough shit to deal with.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 44





	Move Like You Stole It

Friday at fucking last. Vivian Garrity skived off work early. Her boss didn’t even make a passive aggressive comment about taking two scheduled-in-advance hours of accumulated time off. A rare treat indeed. The sun was out, not a cloud in the sky, and summer was just settling in Washington, DC. All in all, it was a perfect afternoon.

So why was Vivian sitting in her car, her chest tight with dread? Her little Ford Focus was parked on the side of a road in Georgetown, an over-priced coffee in her cup holder. Her engine was running with the AC blasting, waiting for her to pull onto the main street and head north to visit her parents for the weekend.

But her car remained in park. Her phone was clutched tightly in her hands. She jumped in her seat when it buzzed but she exhaled with relief when she saw it was just a meme from her best friend Cherise. She fired off an obligatory “LMAO” and returned to her message inbox. There it was again… the text from Ethan. Sent at 13:04. 

“In town. Would love to see you. It’s time we talked.”

Three sentences, if you could call them that, and her perfect afternoon was spoiled. Her ex was in DC. He wanted to meet with her. To talk. They both needed space after waking up from The Blip… she wasn’t even sure if she missed him over the year they spent “on a break.” But she was struck by the strange tightness in her chest that happened every time she thought about the fact that she was dead for five years and was none the wiser. There was a distinct line between her life before The Blip and after. And Ethan wanted to bridge that gap. 

Vivian stared at the message, still unanswered after two and a half hours, and then tossed her cell phone toward the passenger seat.

Vivian cursed when the phone slid across the entire seat and into the crevice between the chair and the door. She unbuckled and reached her arm to dig for the damn thing. She knew the roads to her parents’ house in New Jersey by heart, but her inner millennial needed her phone close by at all times. She must have been more upset than she thought to throw it so hard…

And then her driver’s side car door flew open. Vivian spun and straightened in her seat, nearly wrenching her wrist in her effort to see who was breaking into her car. She froze when she locked eyes with a tall man in head-to-toe Kevlar battle gear, heavy boots, and a massive machine gun in his hands. He had shoulder-length brown hair that floated away from his face as her AC hit him, and he seemed just as shocked to see her as she was faced with him. His blue eyes were wide, full lips parted.

A full five seconds passed where they just stared at each other before Vivian flinched at the sound of gunfire. The man slammed her door in her face and then scrambled into her back seat.

“Drive,” he said once they were sealed in her sedan. His voice was low. “Go. Now.”

Vivian didn’t hesitate. She peeled out of the parking space and barreled down the street. Gunshots continued, and the glass of her back window shattered. Vivian yelped, but the man carefully aimed his gun out of the newly open space, firing off shots of his own.

“Keep driving,” he said in an even tone.

“Anywhere in particular?” Vivian shouted back, her voice an octave higher than usual.

“Lose them.”

Vivian spared a glance in her rearview mirror to see two black Escalades speeding behind them. She cursed, slamming her accelerator and making a hard left turn at the next intersection through a red light. Her poor Focus had never been under this much pressure in its decade-long life. The expensive coffee tipped out of its holder, spilling onto the floor in front of her passenger seat.

One of their pursuers crashed in the incoming traffic, but the other made it through and was gaining on them. Vivian had no idea what part of the city they were in but focused on not wrecking her car.

“Faster.”

Vivian squeaked in response, but the Escalade was already pulling up on their right side. The man climbed over the center console toward the passenger seat and leaned his back against the dashboard. A guy leaned out of the opposing car and shot at the window, shattering the glass.

Vivian screamed, but the man beside her lifted his left arm to cover as much of the window as he could. Bullets bounced off it with a metallic ping.

Vivian slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel. Her tires squealed as the car spun out on the street. The pursuers braked further down the road, trying to turn around too, but Vivian was already pounding the accelerator to speed back the way they came. She took a left down a side street, and then another quick right turn. Beside her, the man shifted to sit properly, gripping the chair and empty window pane to avoid being flung from the car.

She careened down the road into a quieter part of the city, and in her rearview mirror, she couldn’t see the Escalade. The man beside her was still tense, so Vivian didn’t relax. He twisted to look behind them, his gun cocked and ready to fire if needed.

Vivian blew through a stop sign, and an Escalade zoomed into the intersection from the crossroad, clipping the back corner of her car. She spun out of control, unable to cry out as her car flew off the road and into a fire hydrant. It tipped onto two right wheels before landing upright at a complete stop.

Vivian breathed heavily, hands tight on the wheel. Then she noticed a pressure on her chest and glanced down to see the man’s arm thrown across her. It was made of silver paneled metal. The man stared forward, panting. But that wasn’t all…

“You can let go of my tit now,” Vivian said in a shaky voice.

The man turned, and it took a beat for him to notice his hand placement. He retracted his arm, horror-stricken, but the sound of gunfire interrupted anything he might have said. His face hardened as he looked out of the front windshield. The Escalade that clipped her car was driving toward them, a shooter hanging out of the passenger window.

“We have to move,” the man said. “Keep your head down.”

Vivian obeyed, ducking her head as low as she could. The man opened his passenger door and took Vivian’s hand. He pulled her so that she clambered across his seat and squatted beside him, shielded behind the car door. They paused for a moment, and she watched the man’s eyes dart around them, calculating.

“Come on,” he said at last. He wrapped his right arm around her, holding her close, and dragged her from behind the car. He hustled them across the street, his metal arm shielding them from bullets. Vivian realized with a pang that he left his gun in her abandoned car.

They hurried into an alley, too narrow for a car to fit. But the Escalade’s occupants would follow them on foot soon enough. The man kept a tight grip on her as they made a few sharp turns, until they reached a crossroads. One path led to a dead end where there were a few small shops, and the other led toward a busy street.

The man stopped and whirled Vivian so that they were eye to eye, her forearms held fast in his powerful grip.

“Go into that coffeeshop,” he said in the same calm but stern voice he used when he first told her to drive. “Keep your head down. Stay put. They didn’t get a good look at you. Let’s keep it that way.”

Vivian nodded and watched the man pull a knife from his belt.

“A knife to a gun fight,” Vivian couldn’t stop herself from saying weakly.

She immediately wanted to kick her own ass. She just made one of her infamously bad jokes to an armed and definitely dangerous stranger. But the man only raised an eyebrow at her, a flash of amusement in his eyes. The metal hand that remained on her arm gave her a gentle squeeze. Then he pushed her away. “Go.”

And she did.

Vivian barely heard the man sprinting down the alley – his steps light despite his heavy combat boots. She walked as casually as she could into the coffee shop, not looking back at all, not even to check to see if she was followed. She joined the queue to the counter and groaned when she remembered her bag with her money and phone were in her abandoned car. Still she kept her posture relaxed as the line moved forward. When she reached the cashier, she perused the menu breezily.

Vivian let a chagrined smile cross her face. “Sorry, I still need to think on it.”

She stepped away and ducked into a table at the back of the shop. She scanned her surroundings: the place was crowded with hipsters, many typing furiously on laptops. Beside her was a woman a few years older than she was, also tapping at a laptop keyboard.

“Excuse me,” Vivian said to her. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your phone? I need to make a call.”

The woman looked up with a stiff smile. “Vivian Garrity, right?”

Vivian’s blood ran cold. Should she bolt out of the coffeeshop? The place could be surrounded by… whoever was chasing the guy that hijacked her car. The woman held up a placating hand and slid a badge across the table toward Vivian.

“My name is Agent Rachel Ng. I’m with the new S.H.I.E.L.D. Have you heard of our organization?”

Vivian squinted at the woman’s ID and nodded.

“Did you recognize the man who pointed you to this café?”

Vivian nodded again.

“Then you know I work with him,” Agent Ng said, the awkward smile still on her face. She gestured to a comms piece in her ear. “The pursuants are out of the area. You’re in the clear now, Miss Garrity. You’re safe.”

Vivian shuddered. “Is… is he… okay?”

Agent Ng raised her eyebrow a fraction. “The mission is still ongoing, but the Winter Soldier has re-joined the strike team.”

Vivian blinked around the coffeeshop, sinking into her chair. So that really was the goddamn Winter Soldier who commandeered her car. The former army sergeant in World War II who was captured and tortured into a terrorist super assassin for 70 years… Until a few years ago when he was reunited with his best friend Captain Fucking America and is now a superhero. THAT Winter Soldier.

“Miss Garrity,” Agent Ng said, bringing Vivian back to reality. “It probably won’t come as a surprise to you that I need you to come with me to headquarters. We take civilian risk in our missions very seriously.”

“Not exactly protocol,” Vivian added softly.

“Precisely.”

Vivian sighed in resignation. “Well, I’d still like to borrow your phone. I don’t think I’m going to visit my parents in New Jersey tonight after all.”

Agent Ng’s smile softened into something more genuine. “I know you haven’t signed any paperwork yet, but I’d appreciate it if you kept the details of this incident extremely light for now.”

The agent dialed the number herself, but once it started ringing, she handed the phone to Vivian.

“Hey, Mom, I’m having a bit of car trouble…”

~~~

Agent Ng drove to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in a sleek black sedan. The building was nondescript, borderline boring compared to the Triskelion. But that building was never rebuilt after the organization’s fall several years ago. Vivian didn’t blame them for wanting to blend in after that shit show. Vivian worked in public relations, and in that moment she was glad she didn’t have to deal with the nightmare of rebranding a government agency that had been infiltrated by fucking HYDRA.

Vivian learned her belongings were retrieved from the site but her car was a lost cause. Agent Ng assured her that she would be compensated accordingly. Then Vivian was taken to a medical bay. She hadn’t noticed she’d gotten several cuts on her face from the shattered window panes, but the wounds were quickly cleaned and bandaged.

Vivian was left in a small conference room where she told several agents what happened, not only about her encounter with the Winter Soldier, but from the moment she woke up that morning – the detailed circumstances that led to her car being in that place at that precise time.

They kept her there for hours, forcing her to recount her story over and over again. She signed the inevitable NDA early in the proceedings – which likely had to do with her job. What were the odds that S.H.I.E.L.D.’s inconvenient civilian worked in public relations with access to prominent social media accounts where she could swiftly make her story viral? Vivian understood the organization’s precautionary attitude, though she wondered how many other civilians had been commandeered into missions in the past. Or more specifically, how many of them didn’t survive to sign paperwork in the aftermath.

It was past 9 PM by the time a friendly agent announced she was free to go and would be escorted home. Vivian was beyond relieved. She was starving and exhausted. Her steps felt robotic as they navigated a fluorescent-lit corridor. Her mind was already focused on the hole-in-the-wall pizza place across from her apartment that remained open late. So she nearly tripped over the agent who froze in his tracks and gave a somewhat startled greeting to a tall man who was definitely-on-purpose blocking the way to the lobby.

“Sergeant Barnes.”

Vivian let her mouth fall open in surprise. There was the fucking Winter Soldier. Again. He no longer wore head-to-toe Kevlar and appeared freshly showered. Vivian felt a spike of envy at that. This guy broke protocol and risked her life but somehow avoided being stuck in ass-covering government meetings? But she had to admit, as her eyes took in the sheer size of the man towering in the hall, and his stoic, distant stare, she wouldn’t have the gall to force him to sit through anything he didn’t want to.

“Agent Diez,” the Winter Soldier – Sergeant Barnes? – replied.

There was a beat where Agent Diez seemed to expect Barnes to move. When he didn’t, he said, “I’m escorting Miss Garrity home. She’s finished her debriefing after her… participation in today’s mission.”

It was bizarre seeing the Winter Soldier in street clothes – jeans, a leather jacket, and black gloves that hid his metal hand. Vivian’s brain had trouble connecting Leather Jacket Barnes and Kevlar Winter Soldier as the same person. With a jolt she realized that Barnes was staring at her with intense blue eyes and she fought the blush that threatened her cheeks at getting caught watching him.

“Actually, I’m escorting Miss Garrity home,” Barnes said at last, shoving a folder toward the agent.

“You… are?” Agent Diez stammered. He recovered and examined the document enclosed in the file. Then he repeated with more confidence, “You are.”

Agent Diez faced Vivian and turned on his professional voice. “Sergeant Barnes will accompany you from here. Thank you again for your cooperation, Miss Garrity. Your new vehicle will be delivered tomorrow.”

Vivian nodded as the agent left. She kept her mouth shut to fight the rush of questions that threatened to pour out of her. Primarily, why the fuck was the Winter Soldier driving her home? Despite knowing the guy’s redemption arc which had been widely publicized, there was a part of her that worried the answer to that question was “so he can kill me.”

Barnes was silent as Vivian followed him to the parking garage and toward a row of black sedans, like the one Agent Ng drove. As they approached what must have been a company car, Vivian let one of her racing thoughts slip.

“I would have thought you’d have better things to do.”

“All the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead,” Barnes said. “So my Friday nights are pretty open.”

Vivian gave a startled laugh. She hoped he was referring to being born in 1917 rather than to murdering anyone he called a friend. Which was an insane thing to hope for if she cared to think about it.

They got into one of the many S.H.I.E.L.D. cars, and Barnes pulled onto the main road. Vivian didn’t tell him her address, and he didn’t ask. Somehow he knew which way to go anyway. He also drove really fucking fast. Vivian gripped her seat with both hands.

“I’m told I should apologize,” Barnes said after a while.

Vivian waited. When Barnes didn’t continue, she said, “I doubt it was by S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m sure their preference was that you never contact me again.”

“It wasn’t by S.H.I.E.L.D.” There was a beat before Barnes continued. “I’m sorry for risking your safety and involving you in an active shooting situation. In my defense, I did not see that you were in the parked car.”

“You were going to steal my car?” Vivian said, her voice flat.

“Yes.”

“Is that Avengers protocol?”

“It was an emergency.”

“Then why not steal any of the other parked cars on the street once you saw me? Why take a… a hostage?”

“If someone else drove, I could focus on shooting. It made sense at the time.”

“You thought I’d be an easy target? Someone you could control?” Vivian felt anger sizzle in her veins.

“I thought you’d be a better driver. I was riddled with bad judgement today.”

“So now I’m a bad driver? You’ve got to be kidding me—” Vivian whirled to face him with outrage and saw that Barnes was smirking. “Oh my God, you really are joking. This is insane.” Vivian faced forward again, eyes wide. “Well, this is definitely not a government-sanctioned apology, I’ll give you that.”

“It is an apology though,” Barnes said, frowning. “I’m not used to the hero thing. Protecting civilians has greater priority than the mission, apparently.”

Vivian watched him for a moment. He seemed frustrated, notably at himself, and she felt herself soften. “Apology accepted, Sergeant Barnes.”

To her surprise, he frowned even more. “Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name is Bucky.”

A few minutes later, Barnes – Bucky – pulled the car over in front of her apartment building in Silver Spring, Maryland. He turned off the engine and swept his eyes over Vivian.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” he said after a moment.

“No, I’m alright,” Vivian said. She just wanted to collapse in bed so this insane day could be over. Of course, her stomach decided it was the opportune moment to let out a traitorous growl.

Vivian held her breath, but Bucky didn’t say a word.

“Well, good night,” she said. She almost thanked him for the ride, the pleasantry on the tip of her tongue, but honestly it was his fault she was in this mess. Bucky didn’t respond, so Vivian let herself out of the car and headed up to her second-floor, one-bedroom apartment.

She collapsed on her couch and let her mind replay the entire day. The still unanswered text from Ethan seemed like a problem from a year ago, but only a few hours had passed. Vivian wasn’t sure how long she was sprawled there when her doorbell rang.

It was the teenage delivery guy from the hole-in-the-wall pizza place she had daydreamed about back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, shivering a little in the light chill of the night.

Vivian eyed the tempting box in his hands and told him, “Sorry, I haven’t ordered anything.”

“He said you’d say that,” the kid said. “It’s already paid for. You may as well take it.”

“Paid for by whom?” Vivian said, though she had a guess. Still, it was pretty fucking wild if she was right.

The delivery guy squinted as she accepted the pizza. “He didn’t give his name, but he was kinda… scary looking?” He froze, and his voice lowered. “Ma’am, are you in danger?”

Vivian burst into laughter. When she composed herself, she said, “Probably.”

The delivery guy’s eyes widened, and he made a motion toward his cell phone. Vivian held up a placating hand.

“Jesus, no, sorry. It was a joke. A really bad joke. I’m fine, I swear. I know the guy.”

At last the pizza guy was appeased that Vivian did not have a stalker and left, and Vivian settled in to eat extra-cheese pizza courtesy of the goddamn Winter Soldier. Or Sergeant Barnes. No… Bucky.

~~~

One week later, Vivian approached her S.H.I.E.L.D. issued car that was parallel-parked on a posh street in the city. It was the same kind of car that Agent Ng and Bucky drove, and Vivian was not used to a vehicle that fancy. Her old Ford Focus had a noisy motor and a radio that hadn’t worked in years. She never had to worry about wrecking something nice when she got behind the wheel.

Now as she sealed herself in her new car, she was nervous to drive it. Seven days passed, and she wasn’t even used to the new-car smell of the vehicle. But none of that had to do with why she sat still in her seat, car keys in her lap.

Vivian was fresh from getting coffee with Ethan. Seeing him again was bittersweet – he was a decent guy, but Vivian felt emotionally raw. He wanted to be with her again. Not just to catch up over a coffee. He wanted to date. She pulled down the sun visor to peek at her reflection. Brown eyes, more bags than usual under them. Bigger than average nose. Mass of brown frizzy hair that was extra poofy thanks to the summer humidity. Sheen of sweat to polish the look. All in all, not her best. But… she was alive. And apparently someone worth dating a second time after a year apart. So why did she cryptically tell Ethan she needed time to think about it? A year wasn’t enough for her to figure out what she wanted? To figure out who she was after… coming back from the dead?

She may have been metaphysically adrift, but she could at least drive home, Vivian told herself. With a sigh, she started her engine.

That’s when the back door swung open and a broad-shouldered man dove into the back seat, slamming the door behind him.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Vivian shouted.

The man looked up and… it was fucking Bucky Barnes. AGAIN. Same shtick. Kevlar. Rifle in hand. Shocked blue eyes.

“No, not again,” Vivian said adamantly.

“I thought this was a S.H.I.E.L.D. car! What the hell!” Bucky yelled. “Why would they give you a S.H.I.E.L.D. car?!”

“It’s an Acura!” Vivian hissed. “Do you see a S.H.I.E.L.D. symbol anywhere on this piece of shit?”

A loud boom startled them out of their argument. Bucky darted a glance out of her back window and then sent Vivian a pleading look.

“If you want this car, take it. Steal the whole thing. But without me in it. I’m not doing this shit again.”

Vivian threw open her door and was greeted with an unearthly squeal as a slimy creature about the height of an average human rounded the corner. It had no eyes and way too many teeth.

Vivian slammed her door shut abruptly. She muttered a string of curses and threw the car into drive.

“You couldn’t just out run that thing on foot?” Vivian asked as the alien (Vivian took a guess that thing wasn’t of this planet) grew smaller in her rearview mirror.

“That’s not the one I was running from.”

On cue, a roar erupted from the sky, and a flying creature passed over the car. The thing was huge – the size of a whale, but slithering through the air like an eel. Vivian stomped on her brake.

“Keep going,” Bucky said in his firm voice. He rolled down the back window and hung the top half of his body out of it, aiming his gun.

Vivian cursed again and chased after the gross flying whale. A few of Bucky’s shots hit the creature, and it turned angrily, emitting another roar before charging toward them.

“Bucky…” Vivian said as it came closer. Bucky reached into one of his many pockets and revealed a grenade. As the creature neared, Bucky launched it. His aim was right. The alien whale exploded, coating the car in thick goo.

Vivian slammed the brake again, stopping the car in the middle of the road. Bucky pulled himself back into the car, and they both sat breathing heavily.

“I thought this alien invasion shit only happened in New York,” Vivian said at last.

“I remember when I thought this alien invasion shit only happened in books and radio programs.”

Vivian was too shaken to voice a smart remark about “radio programs.” After another beat of silence, she said, “I’m not visiting my parents this weekend either, am I?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

“I’m going to have to debrief with S.H.I.E.L.D. again.”

“Definitely.”

“Do I get another car out of this at least?”

“Probably.”

Vivian let out a shaky laugh, still staring at her gut-covered windshield.

“Where are they?” Bucky said.

“What?”

“Your parents. Where do you visit them?”

“New Jersey.”

“Jersey?” At his tone, Vivian turned to face him and, despite spending his afternoon being chased by slimy aliens, he was eyeing her with supreme disgust.

“Really? That’s the bar for you? Alien guts in your hair, but God forbid anyone is from New Jersey.”

Bucky almost looked like he was going to laugh. “I’m from Brooklyn, gimme a break. You must not be far from my old neighborhood, at least.”

“I’m from South Jersey.”

“What the fuck.”

Vivian failed to stifle a smile at his outrage. And then her phone buzzed from her cup holder, announcing an incoming call from an unknown number.

“You’re gonna have to answer that,” Bucky said somberly.

Vivian guessed it was S.H.I.E.L.D. calling her in for her inevitable debrief. “Are you in trouble?”

Bucky shrugged, unbothered. Then he sighed and opened the car door, sending Vivian a half smile as he climbed out of her car. “Nice to see you again, Miss Garrity.”

Vivian frowned. That was a formal address, considering this was their second near-death experience together. But Bucky was already walking away. Vivian watched the fluid movement of his shoulders and hips for a moment before lifting her phone to her ear.

~~~

This debrief was shorter than the last one, though she was still interrogated for several hours. Vivian guessed S.H.I.E.L.D. skipped a few steps in the process this time, since it had only been a week since she was last questioned. Soon enough, Agent Diez appeared to escort her out of her conference room and toward the lobby, offering her assurances this would never happen again.

Vivian shouldn’t have been surprised when they turned a corner to find Bucky blocking their way again. He wore his leather jacket open to reveal a soft red Henley.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Agent Diez greeted him in a stilted tone.

“I’m escorting Miss Garrity home again,” Bucky said, offering a document with one gloved hand.

Agent Diez reviewed the paperwork with pursed lips and then said in a strained voice, “So you are. Good evening, Miss Garrity.”

Vivian kept her mouth shut as Bucky led her to the parking garage and into another S.H.I.E.L.D. car. When Bucky began to pull the car out of the lot, Vivian spoke up.

“There’s no way any executive would sign off on you being anywhere near me again.”

Bucky smirked. “You don’t know S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I know bureaucracy. I work in public relations.” Vivian gestured between the two of them. “This is a liability.”

“I negotiated,” Bucky said easily. “I can do bureaucracy too.”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“I agreed to a 30-day suspension if I could apologize to you properly.”

“And they just let you do that? Organize your disciplinary action on your own terms?”

“I have a lot of leverage.”

“This is insane. And I thought the private sector was batshit.”

“Everywhere is batshit.”

Vivian waited for a moment. “Well?”

“What?”

“Where is my apology?”

“Will you relax? I said I would do it properly.”

Bucky slowed the car and parked in a small lot near several shops. Nowhere near Vivian’s apartment building. Still she found herself following Bucky without question down an alley covered in graffiti. Though the setting sun meant most of it was in shadow, Vivian bet in the full light of day it was colorful and gorgeous.

They were nearing a bustling street, but Bucky veered to the back door of a non-descript building and knocked. A skinny woman with dreadlocks piled on her head opened the door and eyed them dubiously.

“Sam Wilson sent me,” Bucky said.

The woman relaxed but frowned as she let them inside. She led them to a small booth in a nearly empty room and gave them an expectant look. When they both blinked at her, she rolled her eyes.

“Y’all really need menus?”

She left in a huff and returned with small laminated cards that she dropped in front of them.

“Oh, you should have told me you were taking me to the Chili Bowl!” Vivian exclaimed. She turned toward who she now understood was their waitress. “Could I get an original and some cheese fries, please?”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a second before he dropped a glance at the menu and asked for the same.

The waitress left, and Vivian appraised Bucky for a moment. Why was Bucky taking her to the city’s best chili dog place?

“You’ve been here before?” Bucky said finally.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know about the secret back entrance with the secret sitting room. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the Falcon does. That’s who Sam Wilson is, right?” Vivian aimed to be nonchalant in her question, as if she hadn’t spent the past week researching the Avengers since she met him.

Bucky nodded. Vivian was struck by the strangeness of the Avengers hanging out casually together, discussing where to find the best chili dogs in the city.

“You haven’t been here before?” Vivian countered.

“I don’t get out much.”

Vivian sighed. “Well, get ready to enjoy a DC staple.”

They were quiet as the waitress left glasses of water on the table. When she was gone, Vivian spoke up again.

“What are you going to do if you can’t save the world for 30 days?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I have things I want to see.”

Vivian waited, but Bucky didn’t elaborate. “Things, huh.”

Bucky smirked and took a sip of his water. Vivian somehow managed to hold back an eye roll.

“Will you still visit your parents?”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed for the next two days instead,” Vivian said. “I’ll see them for my mom’s birthday in a couple weeks anyway.”

Vivian almost groaned with joy when the waitress brought them their chili dogs and baskets of French fries covered with molten cheese. It was messy eating, but well worth the trouble.

“Good shit, right?” Vivian said after they finished and she wiped her hands on a napkin.

Bucky snorted and nodded. “Good shit.” He smirked. “I’m gonna tell Sam it was only okay.”

“Keep your voice down, will you?” Vivian hissed. “If I’m not allowed back here because you were talking shit, you’re gonna wish that giant space whale was after you again.”

Bucky grinned at that, lifting both hands in the air in surrender. It was a really fucking nice smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He’d removed his gloves to eat, and Vivian found herself fascinated in the differences between skin and metal in front of her.

“Do you get chili stuck in the plates of your hand?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Bucky rolled his eyes and placed his metal hand on the table, palm up. “I keep it clean.”

The grooves in between the metal plates in his hand were intricate and tight, though they ran deeper further up his wrist toward the forearm covered by his leather sleeve. He flipped his palm toward the table to show the other side, and the gold coloring between the metal planes glinted in the fluorescent lighting of the restaurant. She had to give it to him – it looked clean to her.

She hummed in reluctant approval, and he smirked victoriously, crossing his arms. He appraised her for a moment. “You, on the other hand, have chili on your chin.”

Vivian felt a blush color her cheeks. “Maybe I want it there. Good for the pores.”

Bucky laughed – a surprisingly light sound. He looked startled after, as if he wasn’t used to the sensation. He sent a sheepish look her way. Vivian was… alarmingly charmed. Yes, he was a deadly reformed assassin, but she would be damned if this guy wasn’t cute as fuck. Hot as fuck as well, she thought, as her gaze strayed to his sharp jawline and the thick muscles she could see outlined under his Henley.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to get a drink after dinner, but then Bucky was paying the bill and leading her back to the car. He chatted with her easily through the ride to her apartment and she was already locked in for the night when she realized she had been seconds away from asking the goddamn Winter Soldier on a date. What the hell was she thinking?

The guy bought her a chili dog as an apology for endangering her and she had the gall to think she could ask him out? He’s an Avenger, for crying out loud. He was being civil, and she was about to ask for more from him. Ugh, and he probably got that from the regular folk all the time. It must be so annoying. Vivian gave herself a shake and climbed into bed, grateful Bucky was so easy to talk to that she avoided a massive embarrassment. She filed that barely restrained impulse in the back of her mind, in a folder that may as well be labelled “never to be addressed again.” It’s not like Vivian was going to run into Bucky ever again anyway.

~~~

The following morning, Vivian spotted a bright blue sports car in her assigned parking spot and nearly keeled over when she saw it was a Porsche. She approached the car warily – S.H.I.E.L.D. must really be worried about her as a liability to leave her with a luxury car. And then she noticed it was a manual transmission. She groaned; she couldn’t drive a stick shift.

Ethan was thrilled at her call, even more so when she asked him to drive her and the Porsche to a dealership. He wasn’t peeved in the slightest when Vivian told him she was legally not allowed to reveal where the fancy vehicle came from. She swapped the car for a less conspicuous beige coupe, but she was still nervous driving the thing home. Ethan asked her to grab lunch, but Vivian declined, though with a promise they’ll see each other soon. He headed toward the Metro cheerily, and Vivian watched him with unease. He was a decent guy but the tightness in her chest at the sight of him, the memory of who she used to be, persisted.

Still feeling off, Vivian went back to bed. She must have fallen asleep because her eyes snapped open at the sound of sharp knocks at her front door. She had a few missed calls from an unknown number. Approaching her peephole with caution, she saw a stern woman with dark hair in a tight bun on her landing. Vivian hesitated and watched the woman put a phone to her ear. Seconds later, Vivian’s phone buzzed, announcing a call from that same unknown number. She pursed her lips and answered.

“I’m Agent Hill, deputy director of the newly reformed S.H.I.E.L.D.” The sharp voice came from both her phone speaker and behind her door. “Would you mind letting me in?”

Vivian unbolted one of her locks but kept the chain on the door as she pulled it open. She didn’t have to ask – Agent Hill displayed her badge and ID clearly. It looked legit, so Vivian let her into her apartment.

Hill wasted no time sitting firmly on her couch. She frowned. “We didn’t foresee you swapping the car. Our surveillance is going to be less efficient now that we have less access to equip the vehicle.”

Vivian blinked. “I mean, I don’t consent to you bugging my car, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Hill didn’t falter. “We don’t need consent.”

“You really want me to sue you, huh?” Vivian said, anger starting to steam in her veins. “Being roped into two dangerous missions as a civilian wasn’t enough?”

“You can’t be surprised that we’re monitoring you after all that.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

“Have you been in contact with Sergeant Barnes?”

Vivian blinked at the sudden change in topic. “Not since he dropped me home last night. I assume you’re aware of that bit.”

“You haven’t seen or heard from him since?”

“No.”

Hill stared at her for a beat and then stood. “You have my phone number now. Please let me know if that changes.”

“I thought he was suspended. Why are you looking for him?”

Hill’s eyes narrowed. Maybe Vivian wasn’t supposed to know that. “He went off the grid. We have no idea where he is.”

“If he’s off duty, why do you need to find him?”

Hill paused before responding. “You know his history.”

“I know he was formally pardoned.” The details of Bucky’s hearing were part of Vivian’s Google binge in the last week.

“Conditionally,” Hill confirmed. “He’s on parole, so to speak.”

“That wasn’t in the court documents.”

Hill frowned. “Not everything is made available to the public, Miss Garrity.”

“Why hide that part of his sentencing? Not good for the image of a scorned government agency to be monitoring every move of a POW and superhero?”

“Miss Garrity, we apologize for your endangerment in recent missions. We understand your frustration with our protocols. But S.H.I.E.L.D. is not your enemy. Remember that before you bring your media guns blazing. You don’t work PR for us. Stop digging.”

“You can bug my car all you want. I’m sure you’ve left one in my living room too, but clearly you’ve learned nothing about me yet in all that recon. Best of luck to you in your search, Agent Hill.”

Hill gave her a stony glare but accepted the dismissal. Vivian felt her anger dissipate into chagrin as she relocked her door behind the agent. It can’t have been smart to piss off the deputy director of the most prominent intelligence agency in the US government. For the second time in less than 24 hours, Vivian asked herself what on earth she was thinking.

~~~

Two quiet weeks ticked by, and Vivian found herself downing four Advils on the train to New York City for her mother’s annual birthday outing. Vivian loved her family. She really did. But her mom and her aunt were loud when they got together. Neither of them had a sense for navigation either, so Vivian was escorting two overexcited middle-aged suburban women through the big city. 

She didn’t complain aloud though. As the only member of her family to disappear with The Blip, her decision to move out of New Jersey, inherently away from her family, led to heated arguments. Vivian couldn’t explain to herself why she wasn’t the same after her return, so she definitely couldn’t succeed in vocalizing her feelings to her family. Now family time was sacred to them, and Vivian would never hold it against them, even if it sometimes felt smothering.

Thankfully, this year, her mom requested a more subdued day in Brooklyn before heading into Manhattan to see a Broadway show. Their first stop was overpriced coffee. Then Vivian let her mom and Aunt Jules wander through some gardens. Followed by lunch. And more coffee. Vivian led them to a popular street art area, watching as they took photos of themselves to share on Facebook while she sipped coffee a yard or so away. As she reached the last drops of her beverage, she willed the dregs of her headache to fade before she had to get her family on the subway again.

It was because of this headache that Vivian thought she was hallucinating.

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about Bucky Barnes since she last saw him. Vivian often wondered what he did in his downtime. Even if he wasn’t suspended from S.H.I.E.L.D., he wasn’t fighting crime or stopping alien invasions all the time. She wanted to know more about him. She wanted to see him again.

So when she saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with long brown hair, a ball cap pulled low over his face, and hands thrust into the pockets of a leather jacket, Vivian was sure it was projecting. But that easy, fluid-like walk was too familiar to not belong to the Winter Soldier.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he met her gaze a few yards away and his blue eyes widened in surprise. Vivian wished she could say her initial reaction was happiness seeing him. But instead she tensed instinctually, half-expecting a gun-toting alien to careen around a corner.

Bucky must have followed her train of thought because he smirked. He hesitated and then walked toward her, joining her in leaning against a brick building.

“What’s chasing you this time?” she asked.

“You know I’m not allowed on missions for another few weeks,” Bucky replied.

“I noticed that you didn’t answer the question.”

Bucky grinned. “Nothing’s chasing me that you need to worry about. This time.”

“If that’s true, why did Agent Hill show up on my doorstep the day after you left?”

His smile faded. “That’s on me. You would have been the last known contact before I ghosted. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put that on you.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. “I can handle it. Did she find you?”

Bucky scoffed and didn’t answer.

“And yet I found you all on my own. What does that say about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Actually, what does that say about you? Are you slipping, Barnes?”

“Ah, but were you looking for me?” Bucky said, his smirk returning. There was a challenge in his eyes that made Vivian unable to respond for a moment.

Then Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Were you looking for me?”

Bucky looked her over with interest. “No. But here we are all the same.”

The inches that separated them felt so charged that Vivian worried for the circuitry in Bucky’s metal arm. She was sure she wasn’t imagining it. Maybe she wasn’t just an inconvenient civilian to be politely heroic toward after all. She swallowed, and his eyes darted down to her throat. Interesting.

Vivian grasped at one of her many questions. “So what do you—”

“Viv, honey, where’d you go?”

How could Vivian have forgotten about her family? Her mom spun in a circle on the sidewalk twice, slightly panicked, before she spotted her daughter. She waved and moved toward Vivian, calling to Aunt Jules to follow. Mildly horrified, Vivian snuck a glance at Bucky who seemed curious about the two women approaching. Too curious.

“What’s this? You’re making friends now?” her mom said, looking Bucky up and down unabashedly.

“Mom, don’t be rude,” Vivian groaned, covering her face with her hand.

“You find yourself another gentile?” Aunt Jules said in a stage whisper. “Don’t break your mother’s heart again.”

Vivian wanted the ground to swallow her completely. “Aunt Jules, no—”

“Half-Jewish,” Bucky said simply. Vivian’s mouth fell open, and she stared at him.

Her mom and aunt scrutinized Bucky for another moment before he added, "Father's side."

Aunt Jules sighed and pitched her voice low to Vivian. “Well, you were close this time, sweetheart.”

“He could use a haircut,” her mom muttered, leaning toward her sister.

Vivian interrupted. “Mom, Aunt Jules, this is my friend Bucky.”

Aunt Jules smiled with all her teeth. “A pleasure, Bucky.”

“Call me Mary,” her mom added with relish, as if she hadn’t criticized his hair five seconds earlier.

Bucky sent them a charming smile, one Vivian hadn’t seen before. He looked like a cheeky motherfucker about to schmooze his way out of a tight situation. Before he could open his mouth, Mary Garrity was speaking again.

“Now do you live in DC like Viv here or do you live in New York?”

Vivian was curious too. Maybe he only went to DC for missions. “Where do you live actually?”

Bucky’s smile widened. “I live in the moment.”

“No,” Vivian groaned. “You are not allowed to be in Brooklyn anymore. The hipsters have ruined you.”

“But I was raised here, Viv,” Bucky said, eyes wide with feigned innocence. She knew he was teasing, but Vivian’s stomach flipped at the nickname.

“Do youse want a picture together?” her mom chirped, digging her phone out of her handbag. “And did I tell you Jules showed me how to tag locations on this thing?”

“Mom, no!” Vivian said, eyes wide. Bucky wanted to keep a low profile. And her own mother wanted to screw it up with a Facebook post.

“Why don’t I take one of the three of you?” Bucky said easily.

“Aren’t you a gem?” her mom gushed. She handed her phone to Bucky who accepted it with a gloved hand.

Vivian stood against a brightly colored mural beside her mom with Aunt Jules on Mary’s other side. Bucky tugged off a glove with his teeth so he could use his flesh hand to zoom and take the photo. Job complete, he passed the phone back to Vivian’s mom with an honest-to-God wink.

“Isn’t that the best picture you could get for your birthday, Mary?” Aunt Jules crooned over Vivian’s mom’s shoulder.

Her mom hummed in agreement, but Vivian was staring at Bucky. What was he doing putting on a charm show for her family? He caught her eye and grinned. Jesus, at least he was enjoying himself.

“I gotta run,” Bucky said. “It was nice meeting you both. Happy birthday, Mary. And I’m sure I’ll see you again, Viv.”

And then he was gone, sauntering around a corner with his hands jammed in his jacket pockets again.

“Isn’t he hot in that jacket?” her mom remarked.

“He was definitely hot in that jacket,” Aunt Jules cackled.

Vivian rolled her eyes. “He could use a haircut.”

~~~

“That guy is staring at you. In a weird way, not a checking you out way. I think he’s following us.”

Vivian flinched as Cherise hissed in her ear. A week had passed since her trip to New York, and she was back in DC, painting the town with her best friend. She chanced a glance toward the bar of the U Street night club they were in and saw a tall black man wearing a fitted brown jacket standing on his own.

“Don’t be racist. Just because he’s black, doesn’t mean he’s out to get us.”

“You bitch, I’m half black,” Cherise snarled. “Don’t start with me. I’m being serious, Viv.”

Vivian only met Cherise when she moved to DC last year, but they clicked quickly. Vivian suspected Cherise loved the excuse to complain that came with Vivian’s constant bad joke telling. She knew Cherise was hypervigilant, and that had a lot to do with surviving The Blip six years ago. She also knew despite coming across as paranoid, Cherise had good instincts. Vivian scanned the club one last time and exhaled in resignation. 

“Then let’s head somewhere else. Quickly, because if they play another Gaga song, I won’t be going anywhere but the dance floor.”

Cherise abandoned her beer on a nearby ledge and dragged Vivian to the exit. She really must have been worried to leave an unfinished drink behind. Alcohol was pricey in the city.

They barely had a sip of their drinks at the next bar before Cherise gasped. “There he is again! Viv, this is not good.”

Vivian took a closer look at the guy, who seemed calculatedly not looking their way. There was something familiar about him. He turned toward the bartender with a smile, and Vivian could see a gap between his front teeth.

“That’s the Falcon!” Vivian hissed.

“Now that’s racist,” Cherise said. “Not every black guy is the one black Avenger.”

“First of all, Colonel Rhodes is a black Avenger, so you can fuck right off. Come on, he looks just like the Falcon. You’ve seen his press conferences. He’s the new Captain America, for fuck’s sake.”

“You know damn well I wouldn’t have seen those. I avoid the news like the plague.”

“Babe,” Vivian moaned. “You wound me.”

“Oh, please, you are not the news. You’re a spin doctor.”

“You wound me yet again. What will your kill shot be?”

Cherise looked Vivian up and down pointedly. “I never liked that shirt.”

“Pow! She does it! I’m a goner!”

Vivian clutched her chest and fell sideways into Cherise, sending beer splashing out of both their glasses.

“Jesus wept, you’re a drama queen is what you are,” Cherise groaned.

Laughing, Vivian straightened to see the man at the bar was heading in their direction. His mouth was stern but it fell into something sheepish when he made eye contact with Vivian. As if he only realized her collapse was a joke. He backed off, pushing through the throng of people toward the other side of the club.

“Motherfucker, he really is the Falcon,” Vivian whispered to herself.

Cherise called her name, but Vivian rushed to follow Sam Wilson. The fucking Falcon. Current reigning Captain America.

“Hey!” Vivian called, falling into the smoking area. The crowd was sparser there.

The Falcon – Sam – hesitated and then faced her, not quite meeting her eye.

“You’re following me,” Vivian said firmly. “Tell me why.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“You’re Sam Wilson. I think you know who I am. You’ve been at both bars we’ve been in tonight. What is going on?”

Sam lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. “It’s not what you—”

“I haven’t done anything wrong! Why won’t S.H.I.E.L.D. leave me alone?”

“No one is saying you—”

“I’m just trying to—”

“Damn, do you want me to explain myself or not?”

Vivian snapped her mouth closed, and Sam sighed.

“Hi, Vivian, I’m Sam. You’re not doing anything wrong. I’m not here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers. I’m not even here as the Falcon right now.”

“I noticed you’re missing the wings.”

Sam looked up at the black starless sky as if searching for strength. “I cannot handle this attitude from both ends. See if I ever do a favor for a friend again.”

“You mean Bucky?” Vivian ventured.

Sam brought his dark eyes back to her. “He seems to think you’re in danger.”

“From what?” Vivian blanched.

“I don’t think he wanted me to tell you. I don’t think he wanted me to talk to you at all, which is dumb, but…”

“Sam, what is happening?”

“Remember when you were dragged into a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission?”

“Which one? You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Gunmen. Not aliens.”

“Got it.”

“There were more operatives involved in that syndicate than we thought. We apprehended everyone from that base and the ensuing chase, but there were other agents who have since gone underground. We’re looking for them now.”

Vivian frowned. “Bucky said they didn’t get a good look at me.”

“They probably didn’t,” Sam agreed. “But a strategy this organization tends to implement to get their way is abduction of witnesses. If they do know who you are, you would be an ideal target for them.”

Vivian felt the blood drain from her face. “Awesome.”

“Look, it’s very farfetched to think you would be on their radar. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s risk assessment for you is slim to none. Bucky’s the one who’s concerned. I’m keeping an eye out because he asked me to, not because I think something is actually going to happen.”

“So what do I do?” Vivian frowned.

“Keep living your life. The threat should be eliminated very shortly. I highly doubt there’s any danger to you anyway. And if it is, I’m around.”

Vivian pressed her lips together. “Bucky’s still out of town?”

“Probably,” Sam shrugged. “The guy isn’t exactly forthcoming with personal details.”

Vivian frowned deeper and hummed in agreement.

Sam smirked, and his voice lilted. “You miss him?”

“I’m going home.”

“What!”

“Excuse me for hearing some sobering news that makes me not want to be out on the town anymore.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you're referring to the fact that your boy isn’t around right now?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Seriously?” Sam groaned. “Neither of you have a sense of humor? You deserve each other.”

Vivian huffed and turned toward the exit, but Sam put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I’ll go with you. Can you at least save my number? On the extreme off chance something feels off, you can hit me up.”

“Fine,” Vivian grumbled, letting Sam enter his number in her phone. “But I won’t be heading home alone. So you don’t have to come. It’s a long Metro ride back to Silver Spring.”

On cue, Cherise materialized at her side. “You asshole! Running off like some psychotic bitch, what’s the matter with you? You have some nerve leaving me drenched in your beer, you fucking shit brick. I better be getting another drink out of you.”

Sam watched her rant with wide eyes. Not looking away from Cherise, he said, “It would be my genuine pleasure to see the two of you home safely. Please, Vivian, I beg of you.”

Cherise finally noticed Sam, shooting him an assessing look. After a beat she smiled in approval. “Hey,” she said, voice suddenly dripping in sweetness.

Vivian groaned. It really was going to be a long Metro trip.

~~~

Sam reluctantly declined Cherise’s invitation to come up to her apartment with a vague excuse of “work.” The NDA meant Vivian wasn’t allowed to fill her best friend on the details of her S.H.I.E.L.D. entanglements and thus her current endangerment. But Cherise slipped him her phone number before she left them. Sam looked delighted, but now that they were in front of Vivian’s apartment, he affected a somber tone.

“Seriously, let me know if things feel sketchy. I won’t be far.”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you planning on crashing?”

“Every falcon has a nest, you know what I’m saying?” Sam said.

Vivian blinked. “I… don’t think I do.”

Sam sighed. “I still can’t believe there’s another one with no sense of humor. The chances.”

“Good night, Sam. And… thanks.”

And then Vivian was alone in her apartment. She locked her deadbolts and fetched a knife from her kitchen. She briefly wished she owned a gun as she checked every corner with her brandished blade. Then she remembered Bucky brought a knife to a gun fight the day she met him. He won, didn’t he? But then he’s a trained assassin. And Vivian’s got a communications degree. She bit back a hysterical laugh at the contrast between them as she threw on a pair of sweatpants and climbed into bed.

She stared up at her dark ceiling, unsettled. Not because of the potential threat of abduction by an organized crime syndicate. But because… Sam was right. Vivian missed Bucky. But what was wrong with that? They were friends. Friends who saw each other mostly accidentally and in life-threatening scenarios.

That wasn’t all though. Vivian was catching feelings, and as she admitted it to herself, panic rose in her like bile. Was the post-Blip Vivian Garrity unable to fall for someone good for her? Ethan was a nice guy who cared about her. Yet Vivian couldn’t bring herself to feel anything for him. She could barely summon anything the first time they dated either, to be fair. And then there was Bucky: a formerly brainwashed assassin turned superhero. He was off the grid as much as he physically could. He was secretive. Not to mention he was more than three times her age.

But… the son of a bitch was cute as hell. Naturally charming in the way that usually irked her to her core. She hated feeling like she was tricked in a player’s game. Like she fell into a trap. But she had seen him when he turned on the charm for fun. Those smiles aimed at her mother and aunt… It wasn’t anything like the way he was one-on-one with her.

And Bucky made her feel safe. Not just with the whole superhero thing. It was beyond the ability to physically protect her, which was something she admittedly valued with the recent target on her back. No, he made her feel safe to be herself: good, bad, and in between. She could be prickly, punchy, even scared out of her wits, and Bucky appreciated every part of her. Even her terrible jokes seemed to land with him. She never felt truer to herself and her instincts than when she was with Bucky. It was revelatory. She wanted to feel like that all the time.

But Bucky was busy. He was in New York. Probably. He had his own shit to deal with. Vivian could bottle this weird crush deep inside where it belonged and wouldn’t bother anyone. Because random run-ins with Bucky as her friend was better than the risk of scaring him away forever by spilling feelings all over the place.

Vivian didn’t notice she’d fallen asleep until her eyes flew open. Her bedroom was still dark, not a hint of light coming from her window. She nearly rolled over to go back to sleep but froze as the back of her neck prickled.

Someone was in her apartment.

Vivian slid her hand toward her nightstand to grab her knife. She waited, but no one came through her bedroom door. She strained her ears but couldn’t hear anything. Maybe her instincts were off, but Vivian was going to go insane if she couldn’t be sure she was alone.

Slowly she crept out of bed, knife in hand. She edged her bedroom door open, grateful beyond belief it didn’t creak. She inched her way toward the living room, pressed close to the wall. Once she reached the main room, she couldn’t see in the darkness or hear anything besides the hum of her refrigerator. But that itch of another presence was stronger than ever. She held her breath and flicked on a light switch.

Vivian yelped and threw her knife in the direction of a hulking figure seated on her couch. It landed hilt first on the cushion beside the man and bounced to the floor with a clatter.

The man didn’t move and stared at the knife for a moment. Then he brought his blue eyes up to Vivian.

“That’s not a throwing knife. The balance isn’t ideal for that. You should stab with that one. And to do that, you gotta hold on to it.”

“Bucky, what the fuck!” Vivian shouted. “What are you doing here? How did you get in? I locked everything.”

Bucky waved his metal hand in dismissal. “The place is secure, don’t worry. My skillset is… unique. You’d have to be enhanced to get in.”

Vivian’s heart rate began to return to normal. “Is anyone enhanced going to try to get in?”

“Don’t think so,” Bucky shrugged. “But if they do, they’ll have me to deal with.”

“I thought Sam was keeping an eye on me,” Vivian said, brow furrowing.

“I was available so I let him off the hook.”

“Sam doesn’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

“The additional security is precautionary, not necessary, yes.”

“Sam said you were out of town.”

“Sam did a lot of talking,” Bucky frowned.

Vivian crossed her arms. “Sam said you don’t have a sense of humor.”

“He said the same thing about you.”

They stared each other down for a moment, and Vivian tried not to smile.

“Sam said you told him not to talk to me,” she said after a moment.

Bucky sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you about something that wouldn’t take that long to resolve. It’d be finished quicker if S.H.I.E.L.D. would let me go after them.”

“And whose fault is that?” Vivian said with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky sent her a flat look that had Vivian fighting another smile.

“For what it’s worth, I’d prefer to be kept in the loop if there’s a threat against my life,” Vivian added.

“Noted,” Bucky said.

A large part of her wanted to tell him she wanted to be informed about threats against his life too, but she held her tongue. Instead, she said, “Sam said—”

Bucky groaned, “If I have to hear about Sam Wilson one more time—”

Vivian rolled her eyes. “He said I should carry on as normal.”

Bucky sighed and nodded.

“So I should go back to bed?”

He nodded again. Vivian remained by the wall, watching Bucky on her couch for another minute.

“What about you? What will you do?”

Bucky spread his hand across the couch cushion. “Is it alright if I stay here?”

Vivian threw her hands in the air. “Now he asks permission. But God forbid he rings a doorbell.”

She strode to her linen closet and grabbed a sheet and her best throw blanket. She handed them to Bucky and eyed his Kevlar battle gear dubiously. “I might have a sweatshirt that would fit you…”

“I’ll be alright in this, Viv,” Bucky said. The nickname didn’t have a hint of teasing like it did in New York, and something in Vivian’s chest fluttered. “Thank you.”

Vivian nodded and took a step back.

“Take your knife,” Bucky told her. “Don’t forget to stab next time.”

Vivian laughed and picked up her blade from the floor. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Good night, Vivian.”

Once she was back in bed, staring at the ceiling, sleep didn’t come easily. But she knew it – again – had little to do with potential abduction and everything to do with the fine ass superhero in the next room. If she didn’t suspect he had enhanced hearing, her hand would be down her pants in a heartbeat. As it was, she rolled over, eyes squeezed shut, trying not to fixate on the proximity of the guy who had her emotions in a twist.

A few hours later, streaks of blue dawn shone through her window, so Vivian considered it safe to get out of bed. She frowned at her reflection. Her eyes were puffy, her curly hair was tangled beyond belief, and her pajamas were shabby – pants long and loose and T-shirt threadbare. She tied her hair into a bun and made her way to the bathroom.

Once she was slightly fresher, Vivian entered her living room to see Bucky standing in a corner, gazing out of the window. From his spot, he had a clear view of her door and the hallway toward her bedroom. Vivian guessed from his stiff posture he had stood there for a long time.

She narrowed her eyes at the still-folded linens on the couch.

“Did you sleep at all?” Vivian balked.

“Good morning to you, too,” Bucky said.

“I’m serious.”

Bucky frowned. “Kinda hard to keep watch if I’m not awake.”

“The syndicate is still out there?”

“There are a few agents left, yeah.”

“Well then, I’m up now. It’s my turn to be the look out. You can get some sleep.”

“I’m a super soldier. I don’t need as much as sleep as a normal person. I’m alright.”

Vivian squinted at the bags under Bucky’s eyes. “You’re a human being. You need at least a bit of sleep. I’ll even let you use my bed, if you want.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky scowled.

“You’d be more fine if you slept for a few hours. Do you think the bad guys will be all rounded up in that time?”

Bucky glared at her, and Vivian held her hands up.

“I promise I’ll stay in the apartment. For the love of God, just go to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky’s stare remained hard for a beat before he sagged in defeat. “Fine.”

To be as obnoxious as possible, Vivian threw a hand on her hip and pointed ceremoniously toward her bedroom. Bucky snorted, and she watched him trek across the apartment. At her bedroom threshold he turned back to her, eyes searching her with curiosity. She thought he was going to say something, but then he closed the door.

~~~

Vivian tucked herself into the couch and picked up a novel she had been procrastinating reading. She made herself a late breakfast. Then she returned to the couch, tossing the blanket she’d pulled out for Bucky around her shoulders.

It was after noon when Bucky emerged from her room. His long hair was tousled, and his eyes looked a bit bleary. He took his time reviewing the perimeters of the apartment until, satisfied, he settled beside her on the couch, and Vivian’s heart clenched. He wore his intimidating battle gear, but he still looked damn near cuddly just waking up.

“You slept,” Vivian said, failing to hide a victorious smile.

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted. “And you forgot this.” He tossed her kitchen knife onto the coffee table. After a beat, his metal hand found her knee and squeezed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Have all the agents been captured yet?”

“No,” Bucky sighed. Vivian was delighted that his hand hadn’t moved from her leg. “They’ve got more than half of them though. Sam’s been sending updates.” He pulled a flip phone from his pocket and clicked through his texts. “They’ll have them all by the end of the day.”

Vivian swallowed her remark about his ancient technology and instead asked, “Do you really think they want to come after me?”

Bucky lifted his eyes to hers. “It’s in the realm of possibility, yes.”

“Would they kill me?”

Bucky thought for a minute. “Ordinarily this particular organization asks for ransoms or wants to make a deal. But they’re desperate, they’re scattered, they’re not strangers to violence. They might kill a kidnapped witness to make a final statement to the world.”

Vivian nodded. It wasn’t exactly shocking news. She was more surprised at how calm she felt in the face of a death threat. Perhaps it was the fact she had technically died before? But in fairness, the probability of her abduction was low, with the likelihood of death even lower, and the syndicate was almost out of the picture. The danger would be over soon. Best of all, she had Bucky beside her. What did she have to worry about?

Bucky rubbed his metal thumb in a soothing circle on her knee. “Is it… okay that I’m here? I can be outside if you want. I know I barged in last night.”

Vivian leaned forward to catch his hand in hers. “I’m glad you’re here. Please stay.”

I don’t want you to go, Vivian ached to add. But maybe that sentiment made itself known anyway because Bucky stared at her, eyes wide and intense. His face was inches from hers. Part of her wanted to move forward and close the distance between them, but she was frozen under his gaze.

A loud growl sounded from Bucky’s middle and broke the spell.

Vivian let out a stream of curses and threw the blanket from her shoulders. She stormed into the kitchen. “I’m the worst fucking host! I haven’t offered you anything! Jesus fuck, do you like grilled cheese? Let me get you some water.”

She dropped a frying pan onto the stove and filled a glass with water from her filter. She yelped when she turned to find Bucky seated at the island right behind her. Somehow she refrained from splashing water everywhere. Vivian almost scolded him, but when she faced him, he was beaming at her. As if her flailing and swearing were the fucking sun. All she could do was smile back.

~~~

Bucky stayed at her apartment for the rest of the day. Vivian took great joy in introducing him to “Swamp People,” a reality show about alligator hunters in rural Louisiana. Bucky reveled in critiquing the hunters’ weapons.

Television led him to talk about Steve. By Steve, he naturally meant Steve Rogers. The original Captain Fucking America. Bucky told her how much Steve loved going to the movie theater to watch cartoons before the war. How he enjoyed the variety of things to watch at home nowadays but that there was nothing like going to watch a picture on a big screen. Bucky seemed so fond of Steve when he told these stories, but Vivian detected an undercurrent of sadness. She didn’t blame him: the battle with Thanos after The Blip was only a year ago after all. Everyone knew Captain America was killed there, hence the mantle passing to the Falcon. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a best friend of nine decades.

“I wish I could have met Steve,” Vivian said.

Bucky sent her a curious look. “I think he would like to meet you.”

Was that… present tense? Was Steve Rogers alive? Vivian kept her mouth shut. The public considered Captain America to be dead, and Vivian refused to be the one to pry open that door if it wasn’t warranted. She sure as hell wasn’t going to press his grieving best friend about it. It was a story for another day, at the very least.

Vivian called the pizza place across the street for dinner and tried to ignore how lazy she felt ordering delivery. But she wanted Bucky to know just how much she appreciated his pizza gift a few weeks ago, and Bucky seemed more comfortable if they didn’t leave the apartment, even for a hole-in-the-wall pizza place she could see from her window.

“Only one agent left,” Bucky announced from his end of the couch. His metal hand flipped his phone closed, and his other maintained a loose hold on Vivian’s ankle. Vivian had thrown her feet in his lap ages ago, and Bucky hadn’t said a word about it.

“His location is confirmed to be in the DMV,” Bucky added. “They’ll collect the guy shortly. Looks like I’ll be out of your hair very soon.”

Vivian hummed noncommittally. She was relieved that the agents who could potentially kill her were apprehended, of course. But she would prefer if Bucky was… in her hair. Specifically his hands. While he kissed her. She kept that thought to herself though. The doorbell rang, so Vivian wasn’t required to respond to Bucky anyway.

“I’ll deal with this,” Bucky said, rising and heading toward the door.

Vivian swivelled to watch whichever poor kid was unlucky enough to deliver to her apartment that night. They would be in for the fright of their life. Sure enough, a young, lanky guy’s eyes widened behind enormous glasses when Bucky flung open the door in his Kevlar battle gear. He must have been new; Vivian didn’t recognize him. Bucky didn’t relax his menacing expression as he accepted the pizza box and handed over the money, even as the delivery guy quailed.

At last, Bucky shut the door on the guy and brought the pizza to the counter.

“I hope the kid didn’t piss on my doorstep,” Vivian said.

Suddenly, Bucky froze. His eyes scanned the apartment with a tight frown. Vivian opened her mouth to ask if he was alright when the explosions went off: one by the front door and one in the pizza box.

Vivian found herself on the floor, ejected from the couch. She heard a ringing in her ears, and she blinked, trying to see through the smoke that engulfed her apartment. She assessed that she wasn’t in pain, and then she dragged herself around the couch to find Bucky. He had been closest to the blasts, and Vivian wanted to vomit with fear for him.

With the rest of her apartment in view, it seemed the two bombs were more flash than punch. The place wasn’t completely destroyed, though it was in disarray. She spotted Bucky lying flat on his back, eyes closed and head lolled to the side. Vivian squinted and – thank God – his chest rose and fell evenly. She whimpered with relief. Bucky was alive.

Before Vivian moved further, the delivery guy burst into her apartment through what was left of her door. She almost called out to him to leave before someone dangerous arrived. But then she noticed the gun in his hand.

The guy stared at Bucky for a long moment, blinking behind his huge glasses, likely making sure he was out of commission before turning to Vivian.

“Get up,” he said, gesturing with his gun. “We’re leaving.” Vivian didn’t move. “We don’t have time for this. You have to come with me.”

“Where?” Vivian asked at last.

The guy looked like a stiff wind could knock him down, but there was a frenzy in his eyes that Vivian found alarming. “Do you want to get the fuck up and find out or do you want to die?”

“Okay,” Vivian agreed, raising her hands in appeasement. She wanted to leave before he remembered Bucky, lying completely vulnerable on the other side of the apartment.

The guy took her through a back exit of the building, and Vivian’s nausea increased. He must have cased the place before attacking. As he led her down an alley, Vivian was sure she must look a fright: her already shabby pajamas now carrying remnants of an explosion. But they didn’t encounter a single person by the time they reached a car parked in a quiet corner on its own. The guy gagged her and bound her wrists and ankles with zip ties before shoving her into the trunk.

The car began to move, and though her brain was spinning, Vivian aimed a kick toward the taillight like she saw in a movie. If she could knock the light out and gain someone’s attention, maybe she could be rescued.

But the car stopped before she could finish the job. The trunk remained closed, but the man hissed at her.

“If I hear any more ruckus out of you, I’ll pull off into the wilderness and kill you there. Doesn’t make a difference to me. Our goal gets accomplished either way.”

So Vivian stopped fighting. Eventually she was dragged out of the trunk where she could see she was in a warehouse, presumably in the middle of nowhere.

Great.

The guy forced her to the concrete ground and left her there. He paced frantically, shooting dark looks at the only entrance to the place as if he was waiting for someone. Bucky mentioned that only one agent remained in the syndicate. Maybe the guy didn’t yet know there was no one left to meet him.

“Late,” the guy muttered after a while. “Means not coming. It’s just me.”

He paced quicker, mumbling to himself. “Easier on my own, really. No one else to look after. Less risk.” He turned his gaze to Vivian. “I actually have to kill her, oh man.” Vivian felt the blood leave her face. Bizarrely, the guy looked as terrified as she felt. “She’s seen too much. Oh Jesus, it’s really gotta happen.”

Vivian shook her head frantically, unable to speak because of the gag. The guy’s hands shook but grasped the gun tightly. “I’m all talk, usually. If things go south someone else handles the rough stuff. Oh, man.”

The guy took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “They’re gonna come after you. They’re probably nearly here. I gotta do it. You’ll tell them everything if I don’t. I don’t… I don’t have time for this.” He stared at the ground, but Vivian got the sense he was pleading his case to her. Vivian squawked behind her gag, shaking her head even harder.

He pointed his shaking gun at her and fired. Vivian screamed, but the guy missed her head by a few inches. He cursed, fell to his knees, and retched, though he didn’t actually vomit. “No, I can do this. Come on, Martin, you gotta. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

He aimed the gun again, and a large figure swooped on top of him from the ceiling, tackling him to the ground. Another figure landed behind Vivian, and she yelped, twisting to see who it was.

It was Bucky. And he looked deathly furious.

“Hurt?” he grunted, squatting to her level.

Vivian was appalled to see him falling from the sky as if he hadn’t been knocked unconscious from an explosion an hour ago. That super serum was a fucking miracle. She remembered to shake her head no – she wasn’t hurt. Bucky released a deep breath, pulling a knife from his pocket. He cut her ties and removed her gag. Then he pressed the hilt of the knife into her hand, and Vivian recognized her kitchen knife.

“You forgot this.”

It wasn’t a joke but it wasn’t a barb either. Vivian couldn’t think of a response. They both watched her attacker be subdued into handcuffs by the other figure from the ceiling who turned out to be Sam. As Sam led the guy out of the warehouse, both Vivian and Bucky stood. Vivian, though still shaking, got to her feet easily enough. Bucky grunted and clutched his ribs. Maybe the serum couldn’t fix everything immediately after all.

Vivian placed a hand on his arm once Bucky straightened, ready to ask if he was alright. But he didn’t look at her. He strode out of the warehouse without another glance her way. Vivian followed. She didn’t know if he was okay, but she was pretty sure THEY were not okay.

Three S.H.I.E.L.D. cars arrived on the lonely road outside the warehouse. They were unmistakable with their logo plastered on all four sides of their vehicles. Under different circumstances, Vivian would remind Bucky how ridiculous he was to mistake her car for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent’s.

Sam escorted the syndicate agent toward one of the cars, and Bucky headed in that direction too. Vivian was intercepted and shepherded into the backseat of a different car by Agent Ng. The separation from Bucky wasn’t a surprise, but it stung more than she wanted to admit.

“Debrief?” Vivian said weakly.

“We’ll keep it short,” Agent Ng said, her voice the softest Vivian ever heard it before.

~~~

For once, the S.H.I.E.L.D. debrief lasted a reasonable amount of time. It was her third time in their interrogation room in two months, after all. And since she was abducted by a villain rather than a superhero this time, she was treated more like a victim than an inconvenience.

Agent Hill conducted her interview personally. She was civil, which Vivian found shocking considering how accusatory Vivian treated her a few weeks ago. Hill asked her, casually, why Vivian didn’t call when she encountered the Winter Soldier again, as S.H.I.E.L.D. requested.

“Must have slipped my mind,” Vivian shrugged.

Hill didn’t even press the issue.

When Agent Diez led her out of the building, Vivian’s heart raced, expecting Bucky to block their way, hand over some shady documents, and drive her home. Maybe he could stay the night again. But it didn’t happen.

Diez deposited her in a hotel in the city. Her apartment had been bombed and required repairs, after all. All expenses concerning the apartment and the hotel were paid by S.H.I.E.L.D., at least. Diez asked her if she would like security assigned to her, and for an insane moment, Vivian wanted to request Bucky. But she didn’t.

“That was the last guy, right? They’re all captured. The danger’s gone. I don’t need protection.” What she needed was some sleep.

But alone in her hotel room, sunk into soft pillows, Vivian lay completely awake. She knew she needed to process the trauma of being abducted, but on that first night, Vivian’s thoughts were consumed by Bucky.

There was no doubt Vivian was gone on him. For a moment that day, before everything went to shit, Vivian believed Bucky felt the same. But Bucky seemed intent on pretending she didn’t exist after she was kidnapped. Was that how it would be going forward? Would she never see Bucky again?

At the behest of S.H.I.E.L.D., her office recommended two weeks of paid leave for her to recover. Vivian was in no mood to argue. She could have used the distraction of her work, but she knew she was a mess.

Vivian ended whatever was going on with Ethan over a quick coffee. He didn’t seem surprised. He even wished her well with whoever she was seeing, though Vivian didn’t mention meeting anyone else. He said he could tell her mystery man was making her happy. Vivian cried on the Metro back to the hotel afterward.

She met with a therapist who pretended not to be amused with Vivian’s cavalier approach to the shit that went down. But she also saw through Vivian’s bullshit, about The Blip too, and called her out. It was refreshing. And Vivian learned to sleep again.

~~~

Two weeks later, Vivian was bored out of her mind. The weather was gorgeous, so she took the Metro from the hotel to the posh part of town by the river. She bought her guilty pleasure – overpriced coffee – and planted herself on a bench. She spread her legs across the length of the bench, ignoring the local snobs who sniffed at her posture.

She nearly choked on her drink when she noticed she was being watched. She straightened, sitting like a normal person, and absorbed the first glimpse of Bucky she’d had in weeks. He sat on a bench across the path, wearing a deep green Henley and jeans. Long sleeves covered the majority of his metal arm, but his silver fingers glinted in the summer sunlight. His hair was pulled into a messy bun, and sunglasses covered his eyes. If Vivian wasn’t still thinking about him nonstop, she might not have noticed him. Bucky watched her stoically for a moment before standing and moving to sit beside her on her bench.

“A bit rude of you to take up the whole bench like that,” he remarked.

“A bit rude of you to pretend I don’t exist for the last few weeks like that,” Vivian said before she could stop herself.

Bucky winced. “Yeah.”

Vivian waited, but Bucky didn’t say anything more. “If you need a ride to chase bad guys, my car’s back at the hotel. I can’t help you today.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Vivian paused. “That was a weirdly loaded statement, Bucky. You gonna elaborate on that?”

Bucky winced again and looked up to the sky. “I used to be charming, you know. Before the whole brainwashing into a creepy assassin thing.”

“Are you playing the sympathy card or trying to distract me with the tortured background bit? Actually, don’t tell me. Just move on to the what the fuck is going on part.”

Bucky frowned and turned to her with interest. “Did S.H.I.E.L.D. make you do one of their interrogation seminars?”

“I work in public relations,” Vivian said evenly. “You think I don’t know bullshit when it’s pouting in a Henley beside me?”

Bucky schooled his face into something less pouty and crossed his arms.

After another moment, Vivian stood with a sigh. “I’m not gonna try to out stubborn-silence you. You’re 100 years old. You’ll smoke me. So I’m out of here. Come find me when you actually want to talk to me.”

“You’re very mean today.” Bucky’s eyes widened as Vivian scowled. “No, pretend I didn’t say that. You have every right to be pissed at me.” He went to run a hand through his hair and then seemed dismayed that it was tied back. Vivian sat again, stiffly.

“I wasn’t there when you needed me.” Bucky paused. “Two explosive devices, and I didn’t spot either of them in time. You should have been safe with me.”

“You think I’m pissed about being abducted?”

Bucky sent her a look that Vivian could tell was exasperated even through his sunglasses. “I mean, I’m pissed that you were abducted. On my fucking watch.”

“In fairness, the guy eluded all of S.H.I.E.L.D. for weeks, and no one really expected him to come after me in the first place. This isn’t on you.”

Bucky frowned. “During his interrogation, he confessed he tailed you for intel at first. But when Sam brought you home that Friday and he spotted me in your apartment window, he was spurred into action. What more proof did he need that you were valuable if two Avengers were keeping tabs on you.” He took a breath as if he were in pain. “If I hadn’t insisted on protecting you, none of this would have happened.”

“You don’t know that,” Vivian said. “It could have ended up a lot worse.”

Bucky looked even more miserable at that, so Vivian continued. “Damn it, Bucky, how many missions have you done in your life? How often does everything go completely according to plan? What is throwing you off your game here?”

“You!” Bucky said with frustration. Vivian blinked, but Bucky wasn’t done. “You, Viv, with your poofy hair and your bad jokes and your grilled cheese. My whole life has been non-stop motion. Jumping from mission to mission. Whether it was Hydra or the war or S.H.I.E.L.D. Then I met you and I could be still. I could breathe. Every second with you was so refreshing. I never wanted to leave you. It was terrifying… I thought I was losing myself. An… alarming concept for someone who was brainwashed for 70 years. But that’s not it at all.”

Bucky sighed and slid his sunglasses to perch above his forehead. He fixed his fierce blue eyes on Vivian. “I think you’re balancing me. I’m not a machine – I’m fucked up in the head, but I know that much. But I don’t always know that I’m… a person. Steve tries, but he has a similar problem. Where does the symbolic Captain end and Steve begin, you know? But with you, I can just… be me. I didn’t want to lose that. And my dumbass response was to push you away. I’m sorry for that.” He groaned. “Jesus, I’m throwing a lot at you. Okay, what I’m trying to say is that I like you. Can I take you out some time?”

Vivian stared at him. Bucky stared back, every muscle in his body tensed.

“You used to be charming?” she said at last.

Bucky huffed a laugh and buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, Buck,” she said softly. When Bucky lifted his head, eyes wide, she took both of his hands in hers. “I may not be having a crisis of my own humanity, but you’ve been affecting my life too. I’ve been… static for a long time. Since I came back from The Blip. I was feeling smothered in my old life but ended up settling in pretty much every aspect of my new one for ‘good enough.’ Except for Cherise, don’t tell her I said that. She’s great.”

“Who’s Cherise?”

“Ask Sam,” Vivian sighed. “Anyway, Bucky, when I’m with you I feel… free. I’m on cloud nine – there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. For once I’m exactly where I belong. You make me feel safe, not in the way that made me itch to get out of New Jersey. But safe to… be me.” She grinned at her blatant thievery of his words. “What I’m trying to say is that I like you too, and you can definitely take me out some time.”

“Like” was not the correct word, but she could come around to saying exactly what she felt soon. For now, Bucky’s eyes shone.

“Yeah?” he smiled, his eyes crinkling but not losing their brightness.

“Yeah,” Vivian smiled back.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“You better.”

Bucky cupped her face in both of his hands and pressed his lips softly to hers. It was tender and… not nearly enough.

Bucky pulled back, eyebrows raised in a question.

“That was sweet, Bucky, really,” Vivian told him. “Am I going to offend your ‘Greatest Generation’ sensibilities if I kick it up a notch?”

“Oh, thank God,” he groaned.

Bucky met her mouth with more insistence this time. Vivian bit her own lip from the force of it, but she responded immediately, lips sliding roughly against his. Bucky dug his metal hand into her hair, pulling her closer to him. His other hand quickly followed, brushing an especially frizzy strand out of the way. Both Vivian’s hands slid up his chest to rest on his neck. His pulse pounded under her fingers.

Vivian felt a tug at her hair and hissed. There was another tug and… Bucky grunted, pulling his face away from hers. His sunglasses clattered from his head to the bench. When Vivian opened her eyes, Bucky was frowning, cheeks flushed.

“Your hand is stuck in my hair, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. “Gimme a second, alright?”

Vivian laughed as Bucky used his right hand to gently free his metal one from her curls. Once he was untangled, he settled back against the bench, scowling at his prosthetic as if it had betrayed him.

“You’ve had several seconds,” Vivian said.

Bucky’s eyes slid to meet hers, and his face relaxed. Finally, he smirked. “What are you doing later?”

“Hopefully you,” Vivian answered.

Bucky pressed his lips together tightly, fighting a smile. “That was terrible.”

“Sam was right about us. No sense of humor.”

“Speak for yourself, darling.”

“You seemed to be working hard not to laugh there, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but let his smile spread.

“I do happen to have a hotel room courtesy of your employer,” Vivian said in a low voice.

“I thought I was gonna take you out on a date?” Bucky said.

Vivian huffed and grabbed Bucky’s discarded sunglasses, putting them on her own face. “Fine, but can you make it quick?”

“Absolutely not.”

He grinned and stood from the bench, offering her a hand to join him. She took it and didn’t let go as they walked down the path.

“You ever been on a motorcycle?” he asked.

“Uh, no?” Vivian said hesitantly.

Bucky’s smile widened and he gave their joined hands a squeeze. “It’s about time I gave you a lift on my own ride.”

Vivian looked up into Bucky’s bright face and knew she’d follow him fucking anywhere.


End file.
